


Of City lights and Hotel rooms

by deardaredreamer



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Boys Kissing, Canon Universe, France giving advice, How Do I Tag, Human & Country Names Used, M/M, Prussia and England rebeling the morals of a nation, Tags Are Hard, honestly how do you tag I'm new to this, oh wait I got it, pretty short since I haven't been writing in a while, refreshing my skills for more fanfics to come, such rebels much wow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 11:06:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13075572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deardaredreamer/pseuds/deardaredreamer
Summary: And within each other’s arms, they seem to forget who they are.





	Of City lights and Hotel rooms

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick disclaimer, I only own this plot and the universe and characters belongs to Himaruya Hidekaz!

His lips were a deep and lovely red.   
They matched his eyes. 

Enchanting, enthralling, entrancing. Gilbert's eyes burned with experience and knowledge, his pale, calloused hand, worn out from continuous fighting, entangled itself with Arthur's as he animated his day. Arthur watched him intently, attention focused on his dazzling smile rather than his clumsy words. He felt as if he was caught in one of those fairy tales, curled up next to his significant other in a hotel bed, away from prying eyes, doing nothing more than enjoying each other's company after a long day of politics. 

It felt as if they were being tested. 

Gilbert had soon lost his adrenaline, cherry red orbs searched peridot green, for something, something closer, something intimate. Arthur could see it, he could feel the fierce fire within Gilbert’s eyes, the eyes that made him yearn for the other's touch, crave for the other's affection. 

Neither was sure who started it, but their logic and self-control seemed to have darted out the window when their lips pressed together. Silence overflowed the room with only the rustling of thin mattresses evident. Arthur's body flushed with every graze, every caress, nostrils invaded by the strong smell of cheap cologne and alcohol that always seemed to linger on Gilbert. His hot, unsteady breath ghosted Arthur's lips, left hand running through unruly blonde hair. Gilbert who was hovering over him had let his slightly swollen lips go in favour for the crook of his neck, greedily inhaling Arthur's scent. They stayed like that for a while, fingers still laced. 

Just for tonight, they swore to themselves, that this would be the last time they rid of their responsibilities as a nation. 

But they both knew they wouldn't keep it. 

\---

The dense smell of coffee and the continuous buzzing of voices was making his head hurt. Arthur’s gloved fingers reached up to massage his temples, face scrunched up in distaste. God, he wished he was sitting on his comfy couch, a hot, steaming cup of tea within his grasp. 

Unfortunately, whatever tolerance he was left with had dissolved when he felt a heavy weight drape itself over his shoulders. Arthur shot the interference a sour scowl, Francis grinned as he pulled out the maroon office chair beside Arthur and planted himself on it. He had decided to ignore whatever rubbish his longtime rival was spewing out of his mouth, the pounding in his head getting worse by the minute. 

His hand reached for the cup in front of him and chugged down the once-hot instant coffee. He swallowed it even though he hated its aroma. The bitterness of the beverage combined with the sudden tip of his head made his world spin, he closed his eyes tightly, trying to will his migraine away. 

However, Francis’ talking did not cease and it irritated him to no end. Arthur was about to deliver a snarky remark to one of Francis’ insults when he suddenly felt a cold shiver run up his spine. His eyes darted wearily within the four corners of the room, alertness washed over him. The predatory aura made his hair stand on its ends and his blood runs cold. He calmed his breathing, this time carefully analyzing each nation's aura until his eyes clashed with another's. 

Gilbert was watching him again.

Arthur felt his cheeks flush as he pried his eyes away from the deep and enriching red in favour for the slim, black fountain pen that was held tightly in between his fingers. 

Those eyes scorched him in a way that the sun cannot hope to replicate. He hated the feeling, he hated that he was acting like a teenage girl who’s just experienced first love. He hated that when he closed his eyes, all he could visualize was the enticing cherry red that captured his breath along with his heart. After he had decided that Gilbert’s stare was becoming an awful distraction, he let the pen go and turned towards the said man, casting him a glare. Gilbert did not falter and a condescending smirk graced his face, he even dared to blow Arthur a kiss.

But what snapped Arthur’s attention away wasn’t the embarrassment he received from Gilbert, but rather the sudden silence from his neighbour. He spun on his office chair a little to fully face Francis but before he could open his mouth, Ludwig, the host, had dismissed the present nations and soon everyone had filtered out the conference room to go grab lunch. 

Three nations remained. 

Arthur collected his unfilled papers and loosely tapped them on the desk to even them out then proceeded to stand, Gilbert followed suit and strode to the exit, leaving Arthur to finish tidying up. Not once did Francis make any attempt to move, a frown presented itself on his features, it felt unnatural to have Francis bear that expression rather than himself. Arthur only spared him a glance before retreating to the wooden doors, knowing full well that Gilbert was waiting for him on the other side. However, his steps were forced to a halt when Francis’ voice echoed within the empty room. Loud, clear and cold.

“Angleterre, I do not wish to see you get burnt by the fire you set with your own hands.” 

Royal blue clashed offensively against peridot green. It took Arthur a while to process Francis’ words, but when he did, the corners of his lips tugged upwards. He had no intention of heeding the warning whatsoever as he turned to walk away, his hand gripped the smooth doorknob.

“If his flames will be what engulfs me, so be it,” the door creaked when he pulled it opened, satisfaction coiled warmly in his stomach when he heard it clang shut. 

They know that they shouldn’t be doing this, that in the end the world will go against them. They know that they are overstepping their boundaries, that they are risking the safety of their lands for emotions. They know that a nation is not allowed to portray emotional attachment. They know that the world will do whatever possible to tear them apart. They know.

Yet as the night approaches, it’ll be within each other’s arms they’re falling for. They do not need the world to side with them, all they need is approval from each other.


End file.
